Fools Like Us
by Angelas
Summary: Chris is an engaged man about to marry the love of his life... until a bachelor party happens and a joke goes way too far. AU [Nivanfield] Three-Shot
1. Vegas, Baby

**AN: **Uh. This is actually pretty different from most things I write. Oh, and Jake is 21 for the sake of this fic.

**Warnings**: m/m, and adultery (well, not **_technically_**) will be a part of this story, so if you're offended already, please look back.

I disclaim. RE will never be mine. D: wah

**oOo**

A woman could only repeat herself so many times.

She reached out, cupping the left side of her fiance's face.

"Jill, I–"

"Sh, sh, sh," she smiled, hushing him softly with her index finger. "I told you, it's fine. Me and the girls have our own plans, and I'm letting you have yours, just the same. It's only fair, honey, isn't it?"

Chris nodded, albeit reluctantly, swallowing away any further objections as he stared into his soon-to-be-wife's beautifully colored eyes.

"I'm sure the boys will take good care of you," she grinned, reaching for a kiss. "Besides, this isn't the first time Jake has insisted on getting your mind off of work, right? Cut the kid some slack. We both know you need it."

Chris nodded again, watching Jill carefully. He had absolutely no intention of going through with this if he didn't feel as though Jill seemed one hundred and two percent fine with everything and anything. She'd been his world for the past several years, friends throughout the ages, partners at work for several long years, and he wasn't ready to risk any of that for the sake of a bachelor party that he would more than happily be willing to pass up in a heartbeat.

He lent, fetching her by the waist before spinning her around in his arms, digging his face into the nape of her neck.

Jill always smelled nice. Like flowers. A woman with flare and with short brown hair long enough to reach her shoulders. Spirited, fierce, and awfully independent.

Chris was proud to consider himself one helluva lucky dude. And he swore to himself every day that he wouldn't ever have it any other way. Despite their problems, fights, arguments, or anything else that came with the promise of marriage and eternal commitment, he was absolutely certain that this was everything he would ever need in life, after so many years of having not seen what had been right in front of him the entire time.

"I'll miss you," he whispered, pressing her against him. "Don't have too much fun without me."

She chuckled, wiggling away. "Oh, I will, trust me."

And with that, Chris watched as Jill fetched her bags, slipped on her jacket, and popped a stick of gum into her mouth. She stopped momentarily at the door, before spinning on her heel, looking at him.

Yep.

She sure looked amazing in those jeans and in that blue, long-sleeved blouse with the three top buttons missing. Chris grinned to himself, knowing the full story behind it.

"See ya, hun," she called out, blowing him a kiss. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Chris hardly had the chance to react before the door was locked shut, leaving him standing in the middle of the livingroom with a very strange feeling twining inside his chest.

It had been a long while since he and Jill Valentine had been separated in this way. Relationship, or not.

Chris felt empty all of a sudden.

He sighed and made his way upstairs, hoping a nice, long shower would pep him up a little.

Knowing that Jill would be having a fabulous time with her friends, safe and in good hands, should be more than enough to keep him assured, Chris told himself. He, himself, was never really much of a party-goer, nor the big social butterfly he used to be in his younger days. Now, he preferred a good book or a long, solitary night at the gym over most things.

..But, hey, he'd be getting_ married _in a few weeks, for fuck's sake. So, sure, he was up for a crazy weekend.

**oOo**

They all met up at Chris' place.

Jake was the first to welcome himself in, naturally.

Leon turned up a few minutes later with his cell in one hand and soda in the other.

Leon and his cellphone were practically inseparable. Jake blamed it on the guy's most recent fling, one who had him dangling on to a string and shackled tightly on a leash.. with no hand holding at the end of said leash.

"Still talkin' to that one crazy Chinese lady?" Jake asked, fiddling with his keys.

"Sort of yeah," Leon said to his phone, putting it away. "And Sherry?"

"Eh, we're on 'break' again as she puts it," Jake said, turning to stare at a very silent and immobile Chris. "Used to it, though. Kinda hard to care at this point, to be honest."

"She's special. And she's smart, too. I'd say you should try a little harder, considering the fact that she works at the very top with your father. Speaking of which–"

"Yeah yeah, enough about Birkin and my old man." Jake turned towards Chris, a thin eyebrow risen high. He'd expect a little more excitement for this trip from a man who was about to tie the knot on that little nightmare called 'monogamy'. Jake shuddered at the thought. "You okay, old man? You look like you're about to keel over dead, or something."

Chris blinked, turning towards Jake. "Yeah. Just.. Worried, I guess."

"About _what_? You're about to experience fun for the first and last time in your life– It's Vegas, baby!"

Chris attempted to smile, especially since the kid he used to babysit back in the day looked so ridiculously happy, but couldn't. Instead, he coughed awkwardly on the back of his hand, pretending to look at the time. Leon caught this, and took it as a sign of impatience.

"We should probably get going.. If we leave now, we'll have a chance to make it there before midnight."

"Then what the hell are we waiting for, people?"

Jake stood, leading the way.

The other two shrugged at one another before following behind.

**oOo**

Chris didn't know which was worse at this point: Jake's mouth or Leon's driving.

It should be a federal crime allowing Leon to take the wheel, ever.

But then again, Jake's constant yelling in the backseat should also be a classified felony. The guy had the energy of a toddler and the mouth of a sailor; the complete opposite of his refined, business-obsessed, and terribly uptight father.

Chris' head was just about to burst. He wouldn't last much longer like this.

"This is the _tenth_ time we've almost crashed, man!" Jake shouted, "Remind me never to let you near my car again."

Leon chuckled, taking a sharp (and very messy) turn. "And remind _me_ why a ten year-old is allowed to have a car again?"

"Fuck you, dude," Jake bit, slumping into his seat. "You crash this thing, you're the one who'll be dealing with my old man, cuz I ain't goin' through any '_license suspension for the next month due to your incompetence, Jacob Muller_' bullshit again."

A few more lines were exchanged between them until Jake miraculously plugged in his earphones and settled in the backseat.. quietly. Chris sighed, rubbing his temples in sweet relief. Leon wasn't the best driver, but Chris honestly preferred this over Jake's reckless driving habits. If the kid had a dime for every speeding ticket he'd ever received, he'd be richer than his father.

"So, how's Jill?"

Chris turned, taking out a smoke from his pocket. "She's fine. Off to Hawaii, she said."

"Nice. With Rebecca and Sherry, I'm guessing?"

"Claire, too," Chris pointed out. "This whole thing was partially her idea, to begin with. Put her and Muller together in the same room and all hell breaks loose."

"That sister of yours never changes, eh?"

"Seems that way."

Chris wasn't sure what Jake had planned for the next three days, to be perfectly honest. Hell, even Leon (big FBI agent who investigated shit for a living) had minimal intel on the situation, but what they both _did_ know, was that Jake had an intimidatingly creative mind when it came to partying and/or celebrating big events like this, most of which were, in some way or the other, borderline illegal.

Because, when it came down to putting a smile on Chris' face, Jake went all out.

It was sort of really endearing, and Leon didn't blame the kid. If you asked him, Chris had been the older brother Jake had always secretly needed (and probably _wanted_) in his life, no matter how much he passionately denied it. Someone to look up to, someone who _acknowledged_ his existence, someone who just.. cared.

The hours passed, and Jake had eventually fallen asleep in the backseat. Chris seemed lost in his own thoughts, and Leon tried his best not to tragically end everyone's lives that night.

They had just started passing signs for their final exit when the hour hit 4am, way past their expected arrival to the big city. Leon and Chris struggled with directions for a few minutes until they finally found the designated hotel Jake had scribbled somewhere on Leon's hand, one that was dangerously attached to a very big and flashy casino.

The parking lot was large and insanely packed, but it was a nice place with a great reputation (according to yelp dot com, anyway), so neither Chris or Leon seemed too overly mortified. The lights in the rooms above them glowed brightly, beckoning Chris to want to head on up there in order to find out just how comfy the beds were.

"Should've known."

"Well, it's too late to turn back now," Leon said, maneuvering carefully into an empty parking spot. "So, you wake him, or I wake hi–"

"It's about damn time, bitches!"

Jake was out of the car in a heartbeat, proceeding to be very vocal in his excitement as he flailed around in the crowded lot, looking very much out of his mind.

Chris shook his head, letting himself smile for the first time in a long time.

**oOo**

Chris would have his own room.

Leon and Jake would share theirs, and make use of the awesomeness that came with a double bed.

You know, an extra hour or two of partying whenever Chris decided to go prude-ing around way too soon. Jokes, and some good laughs, too. Shit, maybe even attempt to stay up all through the nights making a shit ton of noise, something both Jake and Leon knew Chris wasn't a very big fan of.

Besides, Jake had brought his Ps3 with him (unsurprisingly, since the guy could barely detach himself from it on a daily basis) and Leon was a proud gamer himself, so that was a bonus all in itself, right there.

Yep, because Jake and Leon were like bread and butter.

Of course, all of this had been decided on the spot when Leon realized he'd completely forgotten his wallet, and therefore a third room would be way too much to ask on Chris' generous behalf.

After getting lost several times and mazing around in the confusing, fancy hallways of the hotel, all three guys met up in Chris' room to temporarily drop off their things. They were panting by the end of it. Leon had brought some serious amount of luggage with him, and Jake had been forced against his will to lend a hand.

Deeming a short round of non-alcoholic drinks and conversation with the future groom would be a better way to end the night, they all picked a spot and lounged around the large room, catching their breaths. Chris was quick to claim the bed. After a brief minute of exchanging glances, Leon sighed and took it upon himself to pour the drinks. Needles to say, no soul was safe from Leon's knock-knock jokes for the next innumerable amount of minutes.

"Who the hell forgets their wallet on a trip like this, anyway?" Jake muttered out of nowhere, interrupting.

"Anyway, I'll take out some cash tomorrow morning," Leon told Chris, ignoring Jake. "There's no way I'm not paying you back for what you did back there."

"Don't sweat it. We're all friends here."

Finishing his drink, Jake put down his glass and stood up, yawning. "Well, I'm gonna go drop off my shit in the other room, then I'm gonna hit the hay. I hear there's a kick-ass magic show happening tomorrow night, and I'll be pissed if any of you two make me miss that thing."

Leon nodded. "Sounds good. It's already six, so maybe sleeping in's a good idea for right now." He stood, stretching. "I say a nice good ol' fashioned dinner after Jake's magic show would be great, eh, Chris?"

Jake scoffed, "You kidding, Covergirl? It's Vegas! Where's the gambling in _that_?"

"It's a two-day holiday, _kid_, so calm yourself. There's plenty of time."

Chris just shook his head, an etch of a grimace tracing on the corner of his lips as he watched Jake and Leon go at it again. If Jill were there, she'd be rolling her eyes right there with him.

Damn, Chris missed her. Of course he did.

But then again, deep down inside somewhere, he felt a sense of freedom override him. A weight, maybe. The air felt lighter, and the open space around him.. well, let's just say he could take a deep breath and actually _feel_ it.

Not having to share a bed for the night felt oddly.. relieving.

But Chris would never admit any of that to even himself that night.

**oOo**

They all planned to start the night pretty early.

Six o'clock, Jake had said.

Chris ended up sleeping through his alarm, of course, so he turned up an hour late. Jake and Leon hardly noticed this, however, as they were having the time of their lives at one of the ping-pong tables. Chris joined in after a while, and ended up owning both of them in less than a few rounds. Jake threw a tantrum by the end of it, and swore never to play ping-pong with Chris again because '_fuck you, that's why'_.

Leon was complacent with just laughing his ass off.

The magic show was actually pretty impressive for the two hours that it was worth. Chris hadn't ever been to anything like it before, mostly because he didn't believe in stuff of that sort. Being a hardened war veteran and former drill sergeant did things to you. Made you see the world in only black and white, with hardly any gray in between. Just cold, hard reality and more and more responsibilities.

Chris tried not to think about it, though. This was _his_ night, after all. And his two best friends had worked hard for all of this. Getting him here, convincing him, etc.

So he tried to crack a smile here and there, tried to talk, and just tried to _live_ a little, as Jake had modestly put it.

**oOo**

The restaurant was beyond Chris' expectations, but the casino right outside was loud as hell.

There was a lot of cheering and hooting going on. Chris deemed there was a lot of luck in the house that night. He was actually tempted at one point to just skip dinner altogether and go and play a round or two of blackjack. His stomach growled in protest, however. He was positively starving right off his ass.

Leon found them a nice booth in the corner of the dining room.

"Damn, this place is fucking awesome," Jake commented, looking around with a perpetual amazement in his sharp, blue eyes, "Remind me why I don't crash these types of places way more often?"

"Uh, maybe because you just recently turned twenty-one?" Leon shot, his brow risen in amusement.

"Whatever, Covergirl. Way more mature than you'll ever be."

"_Excuse_ m–"

"Guys," Chris interjected, "Seriously."

Picking up the menu, Chris started looking through it, immediately skipping to the steak section. Jake and Leon were busy bickering in the background, which gave Chris some time to drown out the noise and think about.. well, to think about life.

Claire had always told him how excited she was about finally becoming an auntie someday. How great of a dad Chris would be, and how happy he would be to finally settle down and have a family with his best friend. Because Jill _was_ his best friend. Always had been. Through hell and back. And for one reason or the other, it had taken Chris a long time to realize that she was the one he needed to marry all along.

Why it took him so long? He did not know.

What he_ did_ know was that Claire was actually the reason why Chris thought about having a family so much. About having kids, and maybe just finally putting down his gun. He wanted the brightness and the happiness that flashed through every man's eyes on tv when they looked at their daughter or son. He wanted to feel that mythical fulfillment that Barry always spoke of when he talked about his girls. He wanted to smile like they did in the movies when a man kissed his wife on the cheek every morning.

He wanted, _ached_, to feel complete. To have his old passion for life back, to feel alive.

To be happy.

And Jill was a promise for all of that. That's why he was going to marry her. Chris truly felt, without a single doubt in his reasoning, that Jill was going to give him all of those feelings once they married. That things would get better. That he wouldn't feel empty and irrevocably depressed like he did every single morning of his life.

Jill was lovely. Jill was beautiful. Jill was everything Chris would look for in a woman if he ever cared to. He couldn't possibly be luckier. He didn't possibly deserve her. But there she was, in love with him and more than willing to take his hand in marriage, open to the idea of bearing his children.

Leon noticed Chris' sudden silence and looked over at him, smiling. "Thinking about the bride?"

"Typical old guy who's finally getting married," Jake laughed. "Don't blame'im, though. Jill girl's alright-looking."

"She's amazing you guys," Chris said to the table as he sipped into his glass, still partially in thought.

"Isn't this supposed to be the time in your relationship, or whatever, where you're over-thinking and second-guessing all of this marriage business? That's what the tv tells me, anyway."

Leon rolled his eyes.

Chris just stared at his reflection on the table. "I guess I just know that she's the one, Jake."

"Grooms don't second-guess themselves unless something's very wrong," Leon said as a matter-of-factly, mentally deciding on a garden salad with two rounds of desert. "So can it, Muller."

"You know what they say, though, Covergirl," Jake said anyway, relaxing into his seat, "If everything is perfect, something is wrong."

Jake joked. Jake always joked, and rarely him or anyone else took anything he said seriously.

In this instance, however, Chris felt himself suddenly tense up, now incredibly heedful of Jake's words, serious or not. Leon noticed the sudden change in mood, and immediately reached for Chris' shoulder, shooting Jake one of his personal death glares. Jake shrugged, but honestly began to feel a teensy bit guilty for having opened his mouth about the whole thing. Chris seemed to really be in a very sensitive point in his life, after all.. Whatever that even meant.

"Chris, he didn't mean i–"

But then a waiter walked up and everything changed.

**oOo**

Chris made out with Jake's father, Albert Wesker–

Once.

But. They were both significantly drunk and nothing ever came of it aside from a mutual hand-job and an intense awkwardness between them that lasted for the next several years, up until now.

Jake didn't know about it, though. Oh, hell no. But, Leon most certainly did.

Leon, himself, was also young once – thank you very much – and considered himself entirely open to the possibility of both sexes. Leon also knew instant attraction between two people when he saw it, as his countless years in the investigative service educated him in the ways of social interactions and physical, sub-cognitive external reactions between two, or several people.

In other words, he didn't miss the way Chris' eyes had lit right up when that waiter had walked up to their table.

He also didn't miss the waiter's lingering stare and shying glances towards Chris' direction whenever he thought nobody was looking.

Leon never once saw any of these.. _flirtations_, happen between Chris and Jill, however. Never since he met both of them many years ago. Even now, they hardly looked a couple, if not for the awkward hand-holding that Chris would sometimes initiate when in public.

Leon knew something was up. He had his suspicions. He felt as though, somehow _someway_, this wasn't exactly the best time for Chris to get married. Leon never once opened his mouth about it, though. He was the kind of guy who minded his own business (unlike Jake), and hated to interfere in the lives or personal affairs of others.

If Chris wanted to talk about it, he would.

But Chris _didn't _talk about it, and so Leon respected that and would continue to do so.

The waiter had short brown hair, perked up a little right on the front. He had an awfully clean, olive complexion. Broad jaw and hazel eyes. Very much masculine, yet somewhat _boyish_, in his overall features. Tall, built, but nowhere as much as Chris. A little more like his own size, Leon decided, just _much_ younger. Around Jake's age. In his early twenties, maybe? He wore a bow-tie and a black matching vest, a silver plate balanced on one hand as he passed out glasses of water with the other.

Leon could feel Chris' thigh suddenly begin to shake from underneath the table.

"Good evening," the waiter began rather tensely, never once looking at Chris again and instead concentrating more-so towards Jake's and Leon's general direction, "I'm Piers. I will be your waiter for the evening. Can I start you guys with any drinks?"

"Get us a bottle of your oldest scotch and three glasses, little guy," Jake smirked, tossing the menu to the side. "And, uh, some biscuits. You guys have biscuits around here, right?"

The waiter paused, eyes hardening towards Jake. Leon huffed, shaking his head.

"What.. _kind _of biscuits, sir?"

"I dunno, man. Like bread or something. You know, something fancy like they do in England or whatever," Jake laughed. "Anyway, can you do that for me, little guy?"

"It's Piers, sir."

"Yeah, okay, _Piers_, that's my order. Them biscuits. Now, my man right here is about to get married to some chick he met in high school and he requires the feast of a champion before he marches off to his untimely death in a few weeks," Jake reached to slap Chris on the shoulder, squeezing hard. Chris nearly jumped out of his seat at the action, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. Leon grimaced, wishing he could help. "Your turn, baby cakes. Tell.. _Piers,_ here, what you want. My treat."

"Um, I'll have a garden salad with two plates of the desert special, please," Leon quickly said, bravely reverting the hellish amount of awkwardness towards his direction. He could practically _taste_ Chris' relief. "A glass of, uh, orange juice sounds nice. Is it fresh?"

"Yes, sir.. It's freshly squeezed."

And then Jake seemed to have suddenly choked on something.. or something. Because he began to violently worm in his seat, practically sobbing in a fit of muffled laughter before collapsing onto Leon's shoulder, shaking uncontrollably.

Leon tried his best to keep a straight face at that point, ignoring Jake for the sake of everyone's sanity. "Well, I'll have one of that, then, thank you. Chris?"

Jake slumped back into his seat, out of breath and his face completely red, making obscene 'squeezing' gestures at the waiter who, for his part, tried his best to seem professional. Leon nudged Jake on the shoulder, whispering something sharply into his ear as if he were a child.

Jesus, that kid could be such a royal pain in the ass sometimes.

"I'll have a medium-rare steak with a side of fresh vegetables," Chris said, not looking anywhere but the table.

"Of course. I'll be back with your orders in a few minutes."

And when the waiter was gone, so was the faint color on Chris' cheeks.

It took a minute for it all to really kick in, but then Jake suddenly had a huge grin marked all over his face.

Leon sighed warily to himself, rubbing his head.

**oOo**

The moment their food was served, and the waiter disappeared in a hurry without a word, Jake stood up, straightening his shirt.

Again, Leon could never understand the whole suspender thing the guy had going on, just like he couldn't understand most things Jake Muller wore/did/said.

"I'll be right back, guys."

Jake said it with a smile.

_That _smile.

Damn that smile.

"Don't do anything you'll regret later, Peach-Fuzz," Leon warned.

Jake froze at the nickname, suddenly very conscious of his hair, glaring. "Excuse me, Covergirl?"

"Yeah, you heard me."

Jake laughed smugly. Like he knew something the rest of the world didn't, and walked right out of sight.

"We are officially doomed, Chris," Leon murmured, taking a mouthful of his salad.

"Doomed?" Chris asked, blissfully oblivious and already set on his steak as if nothing at all had just transpired in the last thirty minutes of his life. "Why?"

"We'll just have to wait and see."

**oOo**

Jake took an awfully long time getting back.

When he had, Leon was already taking the last few fork-fulls of his Chocolate Volcano Cake, while Chris was just sitting there looking like a zombie.

You could always count on Jake to lighten the mood, though. Guy had an enormous smile on his face, unable to stop himself from constantly snickering for no apparent reason every few seconds. Leon didn't even want to ask.

"You okay there?" Chris asked, brow risen subtly in question.

"Yeah, man. Anyway, what do you two old-timers say we drink this here nice bottle of scotch that good ol' puppy dog brought us and then head off to the blackjack tables? Maybe spin a few slots? The night is young, man! It's, like, what? Three in the morning?"

"I don't know about tha–"

"Sh sh, hush, little Redfield. It's just for tonight. Bachelor party, remember? Only once in a lifetime!"

Leon, for his part, didn't need much convincing. He liked his scotch old, cold, and with a table-full of friends (young and annoying as they may be). He popped the bottle open and filled all three glasses. They toasted several times, mostly in regards to Chris and his future, and began drinking away, telling stories and joking and eating a few of the tortilla chips in between.

Chris was actually laughing by the end of it. Actually smiling, actually looking happy, alive, and looking less and less like a lifeless zombie.

And, then, suddenly, Jill wasn't on his mind anymore, and neither was the idea of marriage. Kids, or anything else.

Just there, in that moment, with two of the closest people in his life, having a hell of a good time.

It felt nice. It felt great.

Once the room started to spin, they moved their three-man party into the casino, ready to gamble their money away. Jake was naturally hilarious. Handsome and loud, and soon the buzz of the whole place within the breadth of an hour, having somehow attained a large flock of women already lined up just to ask him his name. Leon was complacent with just texting Ada now and then, and Chris was doing just fine at the blackjack table, taking a few wins of his own with Leon there to root for him.

Once the world started to shift at odd angles, however, and walking in a straight line became a little more and more challenging, all three guys wandered back upstairs to their suites, bumping into each other through the twining hallways.

"That was great," Chris let out. "I think I might of actually made a profit out of that poker table, to be perfectly honest."

"Yeah?" Leon smirked, "How much?"

Chris dug the chips out of his pocket and counted them out, "Six dollars." Jake and Leon laughed long and hard. "Well, shit, how much did you two make?"

"Negative five hundred," Leon said through hiccups.

"Two thousand over here. I'm telling you, first thing I'm gonna do when I get back is inform pops on my new chosen career."

All three men chuckled at the notion, finally reaching the door to their rooms.

That's when the air cleared and Jake opened his mouth to speak, that same, toothy smile from before suddenly overwriting his features.

**oOo**

Nothing could ever brace Chris, in all of his thirty-nine years of life, for what came next.

"Alright, Redfield. You ready to do this thing the old-fashioned way?"

No, honestly he wasn't.

Chris was tired and tipsy, and fully aware now that he was probably in danger of getting an extreme hangover the next morning. "I thought we still had tomorrow?"

Leon groaned his agreement, pinching the bridge of his nose as a way to maybe stop himself from seeing double. He was feeling pretty damn exhausted, too, all of a sudden.

Jake ignored them both and clicked the door of his room open. "I give you," he grinned. "Heaven!"

And then Chris couldn't have been more shocked, taken back, or betrayed even if Jake had spat directly in his face, because Jill – or rather him, really – had one simple rule:

No hookers. No strippers. No other women of any kind, whatsoever.

As it was, there was about three or four of them in skimpy little outfits. Leon froze, completely speechless.

"And don't even think for one second that these are hookers," Jake said, walking in as he wrapped an arm around one of the girls, pulling her close as if he knew her quite well. "These are friends, connections, and they're just here to dance."

Chris couldn't really bare to stand there for a second longer the moment Leon was taken away by the arm, albeit reluctantly. Jake had really gone way too far this time.

"I'm going to bed." But then Jake walked back towards Chris and stopped him, a very mischievous smirk on his face that left Chris feeling a little fucking frustrated and violent, to say the least. "I'm not going in there, so don't even–"

"Sorry, big guy, but these lovely ladies are for us, not you."

Chris narrowed his eyes, anger, confusion, curiosity, and exhaustion all in one piece.

"Your present is waiting just down this hall, in your room, and I promise you won't hate it, or me."

Chris glared and shoved away from Jake, brushing hard onto his shoulder.

Maybe this whole fucking thing really was a mistake to begin with.

**oOo**

When Chris stepped inside his room, he'd already expected somebody to be there.

Probably partially naked, probably completely naked, most likely a woman, either way.

What Chris didn't think to see in his room was a guy. The last guy he'd ever think to see again in his life.

The waiter from earlier that day, to put it more accurately.

There, in his room, awkwardly admiring the paint on the walls while still dressed in his work clothes.

Chris completely froze, the lone click of the door closing behind him informing the younger man that somebody had just entered the room. The waiter turned, suddenly looking very nervous, but not entirely surprised.

"Hi," he said. "Your friend said you wanted to talk..?"

Chris swore, despite himself, that he felt his heart begin to thaw from far beneath his chest at the sound of that voice, the look on that face.

"Uh.."

And then Chris didn't know what the hell else to think or say.

**oOo**

**Hate it? Dig it? Let me know, cuz I'm not even so sure at this point myself, quite honestly. xD xx**


	2. Fairytale

**AN:** Hi guys, sorry for the delay. I just write better when I'm high off of energy drinks listening to strange music at three in the morning. Can I just say that I want to hug the living shit out of all my reviewers? Yes? K thnx.

**Warning**: Extreme smut (no, srsly, it's long AF). The cheating-on-my-future-wife-with-another-man, kind of smut. Offended? Leave. c:

**oOo**

It was dusk by the time the girls had decided to call it a night.

They lied shoulder-to-shoulder on the ocean shore, staring up at the starlit sky.

Jill couldn't have possibly felt more relaxed. Like this, with her closest friends next to her, and with a very special someone lingering non-stop in her mind.

She smiled, a twinkle in her eyes. Her heart fluttered wildly at the thought of her wedding night, just two short weeks away. She couldn't wait. Couldn't stop thinking about her dress and bouquet, or the expensive diamond ring that scintillated brightly on her ring finger. After thirty-nine years, after so much of the painful wait process, she'd finally get her night.

_Their_ night.

Their fairytale.

Nothing could go wrong.

"Let me guess," Claire giggled, "Thinkin' about Chris?"

Jill tried her best to hold back her huge grin, but couldn't. Rebecca chuckled to herself, sitting up to sip on her Piña Colada. Only Chris could make that woman look so happy, so complete. Nobody else had ever been able to. Not like that, anyway.

"Sooo, how'd it happen between you two, huh?" Sherry asked, turning towards Jill with a curious look on her face. "You never actually told us!"

"Well.." Jill sat up, looking out towards the purple horizon. Claire watched her endearingly. Jill had always been so pretty. Untouched by the years. "Last month, on the fifth of December." All three girls nodded, listening intently. "After we made love he just kind of looked at me and asked. He was out of breath, too. I said yes and he kissed me.. Rubbed my feet right after. It was unforgettable."

Claire stuck out her tongue. "Ew! What a creeper, he could've at least waited 'till morning, or something!"

"Well, I thought it was perfect timing," Jill smiled. "Everything was perfect. Wouldn't have it any other way."

Sherry sighed dreamily, her head falling to rest on Jill's shoulder. "I agree. Wish Jake were that romantic."

A short, comfortable silence befell all four women before Rebecca and Sherry stood to get more drinks. The ocean roared loudly, the threat of rain suddenly marking the night sky. Jill's brow began to furrow. She turned towards Claire, the look on her face a little different than before.

"Claire, do you think.." she paused. "Do you think maybe.. I pressured him, somehow?"

"Wha? No! No, of course no–"

"You're right," Jill cut. "Sorry, I'm just.. I don't know. Forget I said anything."

Claire nodded, saying nothing. Instead, she offered her shoulder and reassured her brother's betrothed as best she could.

Jill and Chris had the perfect relationship. They were in love. Chris loved Jill just as much as Jill loved him. Chris was dying to become a father, dying to start a family.

Of course nothing could go wrong.

**oOo**

A blanket of bulletproof silence settled itself into the room.

Chris stood dumbly by the door, watching as the waiter watched him right back.

Neither spoke.

Finally, the waiter looked down towards the floor and sighed before shamefully making his way towards the door, reaching for the knob.

"I'm sorry, sir, I should just–"

"No," Chris heard himself say a little too quickly, a little too loudly. He stopped the waiter by the shoulder, suddenly forced to face him, suddenly too close. The waiter eyed him carefully, looking a little guarded. Chris was a big man, after all. Over two hundred pounds of sheer muscle with a very masculine voice deep enough to scare away the occasional person. "I mean, no, _I'm_ sorry. About.. all this."

"It's.." the waiter let out, meeting eyes with Chris. He swallowed, seemingly reddening. "It's fine, sir."

"It's Chris."

Then, Chris' hand had fallen from the waiter's shoulder, and nothing else was there to hold him back from leaving.

Nothing.

But the waiter didn't move, just stood there, staring at Chris as Chris stared right back.

This close, Chris could smell him. He smelled like the forest after it rained. He smelled like a fresh pot of coffee. He smelled like the night air. Like the wind and something free. Something young and sweet. Everything that Chris wasn't and would never be.

His eyes, vernal and hazel and filled with youthful curiosity. His jaw, smooth yet prominent. His short brown hair lied tussled in a manner that called out to Chris, made him think of the young male models that plagued the covers of Claire's magazines. His skin was flawless, his lashes long, and then his lips.. _God_, his lips.

Soft, pink, and deliciously full.

God, he was perfect.

But, 'he' was also a **man**.

He is everything that Chris had never thought to want.

This man had to be an angel. This man had to be a hallucination of some kind, a figment of Chris' drunken imagination, because people just weren't made to look like that.

Either way, the waiter didn't leave.

Instead, he backed up a little and sat down in the nearest chair, looking away from Chris.

Chris realized he hadn't been breathing the whole time. His heart was racing, pounding hard against his ribcage. He walked quietly towards the bed, careful not to seem too intimidating before sitting.

"Piers, right?"

Piers nodded, awkwardly toying with his fingers as he sat.

**oOo**

"You did _what_?"

Jake sighed for the umpteenth time, taking a gulp of his beer.

The dancers had long left, leaving behind a wake of fruity perfumes and unattended boners. On Jake's behalf, anyway.

"I smooth-talked the dang waiter into letting me sneak him into Chris' room, alright? Guy was gullible as hell. Figured Chris'd come right back in here with us to laugh it all off. Jesus, man. The years getting to your ears, or something?"

Leon's eyes widened in shock at Jake's stupidity. Again. "What the hell, Jake? Why?"

"It was a joke! Why the hell else? Why does anyone ever do anything, huh? To have fun! Lighten up, man. You're acting like Redfield had a big, secret, gay crush on the guy that I didn't know about, or something."

Leon didn't say anything. Didn't know _what_ to say. He looked away, coughing against the back of his hand.

Big mistake.

Jake immediately sat up, froze, and grinned. Then he began to laugh. A small laugh that grew into a big laugh. An unbelieving sort of laugh. Either way, Jake was laughing and that was trouble.

Because when Jake laughed, Jake knew something.

"What? Wait, wait wait," he chortled, smacking his thigh. "Are you telling me that.. Chris_ did _have a big, secret, gay crush on the guy that I didn't know about?"

Leon's immediate instinct at that point was to stand up for his friend as best he could, so he did. He knew very well that Chris wasn't very open with the subject of his sexuality, much less with Jake. Hell, even Leon knew very little about the whole thing. Aside from the long-ago incident with Jake's father, Leon knew close to nothing just like everyone else.

"No, okay? Can it. I'll just feel sorry for you once Chris gets his hands on you tomorrow."

And with that, Leon reached to shut off his lamp. He disappeared into the covers, intent on ignoring anything else that came out of Jake's mouth that night.

Jake shrugged and fell back into his bed, lighting a cigarette between his lips.

"Whatever, Covergirl. Redfield's probably still laughing his ass off as we speak while you're over there brooding." He paused, turning towards Leon. "Speaking of which, you wanna do something about this here boner?"

The last thing Jake felt was a pillow being violently thrown at his head.

**oOo**

Chris wasn't big on the talking.

Actually, he tried his best to keep his social life at a minimal level.

He wasn't a people person, nor talented in the realm of conversation. When he _did_ talk, he found himself being offhandedly rude, seemingly hostile, or just plain boring.

And the last thing Chris wanted at that moment was to bore Piers.

God, anything but that.

He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the ground, scouring for something proper enough to say. To no avail, however.

Piers broke the silence, coughing softly to himself.

"So, when's the big day scheduled?"

Chris looked up, eyes dilated. The booze was still fogging up his mind, or maybe it was just the sudden question that threw him way off track.

That's right. Jill. He was to marry soon. Wedding dress, vows, kids, and all that. Chris felt himself succumbing to a headache to the thought of it all. But he would never admit that to himself, ever.

"Uh," he began, clearing his throat. "In a few weeks from now."

Piers smiled. Chris almost died.

"That's nice," he said, softly. "I bet you're excited."

Chris didn't know what to say. With that man in front of him, and with the thought of Jill suddenly so far away, he didn't know what to _think_ aside from the relentless fact that his pants were beginning to feel way too tight on him. He swallowed, not being able to stop himself from staring like some lovesick ten year-old. Piers had the most perfect, innocent, charming smile a person could ever dare to have.

It simply wasn't human.

"My dad always said marriage was a pain in the ass," Piers tried again, afraid he'd said something that was out of place. "Took it back, though, after my mom left him."

Chris nodded, hand tightening a little on his thigh. He felt like he'd tackle the waiter at any given moment, take him, deflower him in every way possible, and then do it all over again all night long. No one would know, he'd show him a great time. Chris took a deep breath, trying his best to control his erratic, rather disturbing urges.

This was fucking insane.

He'd certainly _kill _Jake thirty times over the next time he'd see the kid again.

"Do you like it here?"

There was nothing else Chris could think of. But at least it wasn't something creepy or overly sexual. He could only take a wild, dangerous guess on how many years truly separated him and the waiter. Could only take a guess on how many more seconds he'd be able to control himself, tell himself how much he loved Jill and everything about her, how beautiful she was, how badly he wanted to marry her and start a family, how **not** turned-on he suddenly was because of that deep, yet _boyish_ voice–

"It's.. not the best. But I'm just a temp, trying to save up some money for military school. It's always been a dream of mine, to be a Green Beret," he laughed, looking at his lap. "But, it's silly, I guess. My dad laughs at me all the time about it. Says I wouldn't be able to make it through the first day of training."

Chris blinked. The army was something he knew everything about, through and between. He could help– No, too weird.

"You good with a gun?"

"I can hold my mark, that's for damn sure. Give me a rifle, and I'll shoot anything in its vitals from meters away." Piers grinned, proud of himself. "But enough about me. What do you do?"

Chris avoided his previous occupations like the plague. War and guns were the last things he was dying to talk about with anyone. He'd lost too many good friends, seen too many get blown up into a million, tiny pieces by landmines and other things. Had too many of their brain particles fall on his face, too much blood on his hands. He looked away, shaking his head.

"Nothing too impressive," he said a little grimly.

Piers took it as a sign to shut-up about the whole thing, so he did.

Silence.

"Can I?"

Chris looked up and saw the waiter pointing at the sole bottle of whiskey resting on the nightstand. He nodded apprehensively at first, cautious of the many consequences that may come of it especially in his current.. libidinous, state, but the guy was already standing up and going for it, anyway.

Which wasn't so bad, because Chris had never seen such an ass in his life.

**oOo**

As the age-long story goes: One thing led to another.

The bottle of whiskey was emptied by the time the hour ended, and both Chris and Piers sat intoxicated, nearly out of their minds.

When the laughter died down, and the last two shots were downed, they stared at each other, a perpetual silence filled with nothing but need, want, tension, and filthy, filthy, unspoken desires.

Neither man moved or said anything for a long while, not until Piers cleared his throat and looked away, presenting the notion of his immediate leave.

He stood, straightening his clothes. "I should probably–"

But Chris couldn't possibly let that sinfully delectable creature escape. Not like this, not in this manner, not now, not ever.

He fetched the waiter by the wrist, spinning him around on his heel.

"You have no idea," Chris said, leaning dangerously close, "how badly I want to fuck your brains out right now."

Piers froze.

And then he lit right up, reddened to the very tip of his ears. Chris was suddenly at his lips, kissing him softly. He shuddered, feeling as two powerful arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him in against a solid, warm wall of sheer muscle. Chris smelled so good. Chris was tall and strong and reeking of masculinity.

Chris was so hellishly handsome.

Time felt to have slowed down, senses maximized. Chris felt his cock begin to painfully solidify, the taste at his lips driving him to the brink of impatience. Piers was sweet, Piers was wet and youthful. Piers was soft, _too _soft, and Chris wished he could just cut right down to the chase and turn the waiter around, tear his clothes off, and give it to him hard.

But, Chris, even when not in his right mind, was considerate at heart, and would never really allow himself the vicious deed.

He'd felt smitten, enamored, ever since the first time he'd laid eyes on the waiter. Like the people in the movies would. Chris would call bullshit on any other occasion, but this one was different. His heart rammed and fluttered, his mind reeled at the mere touch of the other. If there was one person who could bring Chris Redfield right down to his knees, it would be this guy right here.

Chris deepened the kiss, begging for an entrance. On the very first sign of reluctance, he thought to himself, he'd stop everything cold in its tracks. He was no rapist, and he certainly wasn't entirely demented.

Instead, he chose to be patient, licking Piers' lips, tracing the seams with the tip of his tongue.

Piers, after a short second, succumbed and opened his mouth with a small noise. Needles to say, it drove Chris crazy. He slipped inside, tasting the younger man and savoring every soul-numbing second of it. It was heaven. Chris pulled him closer, swallowing into the kiss whenever the taste overwhelmed him the most. After a searing half-minute of alien emotion and undiscovered passion on Chris' part, Piers eventually pulled away, out of breath.

Immediately, Chris thought it was over. He opened his mouth, ready to string a million apologies all in one long, incoherent sentence. Piers hushed him almost on cue, however, a small smile painted on his lips.

"Let me see you," he said.

And that was all Chris needed to get right to work. He undressed himself, starting with his jacket, and then his belt, a pair of lustful, hazel eyes tracing his every move. By the time he slipped out of his shirt, Piers stopped him. There were hands on Chris' chest now, soft and curious. Piers seemed to have been totally captivated by his tattoos, or something, because his fingers instantly began to trace the etch of one of the pink flowers, amazed.

"You like it?"

Piers nodded, looking up towards Chris.

Chris didn't have much time to register anything by the time Piers had begun to fully undress himself in a nimble flurry of movements, leaving only the bow-tie around his neck.

Saying the guy looked like sex on two legs would be a huge understatement.

Chris couldn't possibly keep his cool anymore. He grabbed the waiter by the hair, _hard_, and pulled him into a rough kiss, all teeth and tongue. Their arousals met with one another, and the feeling was strange and immoral for sure, but Chris hardly cared for morals at that point.

Last thing he felt himself doing before pushing Piers onto the bed was licking his own lips, taking in the bare sight of the younger man.

And nothing, Chris decided that night, _nothing_ could ever dream to match a body like that.

**oOo**

Chris had a thing for biting necks, leaving marks, and claiming what was his.

And, so, he did this for a long while, sucking and licking all along the tract of Piers' neck and then to his chest, stomach, and to his pelvis, leaving the younger man disheveled and moaning in a mess of shying glances and blushing cheeks.

He sure looked adorable. Fuckable, and ready for the taking. But Chris wanted to see him completely _destroyed_ before he inevitably fucked into him. Oh yes.

Chris stopped cold in his tracks, however, when he realized there was a hardened dick waiting just a few inches below, bringing him right down to reality.

This was a man he was in bed with.

A man with a dick just like himself.

Chris had never had his face that close to another penis before, never truly meant to. Honest.

He tensed up a little, looked up towards Piers, and saw the endearingly sexy way the guy covered his face with his arm, too ashamed to look into Chris' piercing, blue eyes. Too scared.

Chris looked back down, at the dick jutting proudly right in front of him, thinking to himself for a moment.

Conclusion: Who gave a fuck.

He could do this. Chris strived to pleasure anyone he slept with before he even thought about pleasuring himself, and this would be no different.

Determined, he grabbed the cock by the base, and brought his lips to the tip, slowly. Piers shuddered instantly, a soft whimper escaping him before he hurried to cover his mouth with his hand. Chris lapped at the slit, thinking of things that Jill did to him whenever she went down on him on the rare occasion.

Chris tried not to feel like too much of a shitty human being unworthy of overall existence at the thought of her, at the thought of everything that was happening so quickly.

This was the moment he was currently in, he tried telling himself, this was the moment he wanted, the moment he wouldn't dare pass up.

This was Piers.

He took the cockhead into his mouth, apprehensive of the taste, but using his hand to stimulate the base, anyhow. He could feel Piers begin to tense up, shaking. Taking a breather, Chris reached for the balls underneath with his other free hand, toying them between his fingers as he rolled his tongue again and again all across the slit and under it. He hummed a little, sending vibrations all across the other's weeping cock, making Piers groan loudly in response.

Chris looked up. Piers was biting his lip.

And goddamn, did he not look like the hottest fucking thing to ever exist.

After a short while of sheer torture, Chris pulled away, trailing down even further without really thinking.

Chris honestly had no idea what he was doing at that point.

But for all of life's fuckery and the way things just happened to happen with alcohol doing nothing to help the cause, Chris knows damn well that he's drooling at the mouth to have a taste of every inch of skin on that man's body, or so help him he would keel over and die on the spot.

So, Chris sits up on his knees until he's cautiously placing Piers' legs on either of his shoulders, bringing him up so that Chris is face-to-face with that small, pink hole that he's practically _dying _to fuck his cock into.

He's used to girls, who buck wickedly or sigh and moan, and who, most importantly, Chris has years of experience getting off to the point of making them scream. He only has a flake of an idea on what he's supposed to be doing down here, between another man's ass, besides, maybe, tracing every pleat of flesh and worming his tongue inside the tight ring of muscle, hoping for the best.

Because that's how it goes when doing this to another dude, right..?

"F-fuck.. Chris.. Please," Piers whispers, _begs_, and Chris can no longer think, nor hold himself back.

He laps at him, into him, slowly at first, and then he sucks gently. He can feel the goosebumps on Piers' thighs as Chris intensifies his ministrations, can see the cock right in front of his eyes bobbing in fruition. It's all so erotic and wrong and entirely obscene, but it feels so right and the taste at his tongue is nothing but sweet skin and something unique to Piers altogether. Chris closes his eyes, slipping further and further inside, reaching for the cock in front of him with his left hand, jerking it ridiculously slow.

Piers worms on the bed, pleading for more through small whispers and mewls, but Chris does nothing to sate him.

Instead, Chris pulls his hand away and wraps his powerful arms around Piers' waist, never pulling his face away from the other's mounds, forcing the younger man to balance on only his shoulders with only Chris to hold him right up.

The position is lewd and hungry, and Chris feels his cock begin to twitch with the desire to finally be deep inside Piers' lithe body. After a few more seconds of sucking into the sealed cleft, Chris pulls away.

They fall onto the bed, with Chris on top, breathing raggedly into each others faces, a mutual look of perpetual disbelief in both their eyes.

Piers is red all over, a sort of embarrassed look on his face.

"Fuck me," he says, nonetheless, looking directly into Chris' eyes. "Please, Chris."

And so Chris cannot possibly think to stop himself from doing just that.

**oOo**

Chris lost no time.

He knelt on the bed and had his pants open and off quicker than any other passionate night with Jill.

He asked something that Piers didn't quite catch, as he was much too busy staring at Chris' sizable cock. Chris eventually gave up on trying to get a vocal answer and just took Piers' absent nod as a go-ahead to continue on without the use of a condom.

Chris' cock bobbed and swayed as he kicked Piers' thighs open with his knee, settling in between them.

Piers, for his part, estimated that Chris' tool was thicker than his own, and the length certainly greater than anything he would have ever thought to receive.

Piers had never done anal sex with another man. Let alone, allow another person, in general, to top him.

Piers lit right up at the thought of submitting so shamelessly to Chris, however, catching Chris' lips in a gentle kiss that left him mindlessly swooning for whatever came his way next. Chris was surprisingly soft for how outwardly virile he was. But then again, Chris was amazing and incredible and everything Piers could ever hope to ask for in his short twenty-five years of life.

Would it be too crazy to say at this point that, perhaps, he'd fallen head over heels for a soon-to-be-married man in Vegas that night..?

Piers' attention quickly switched gears the moment he felt fingers press against his hole, hard enough to breach the first layer of muscle.

"Shit.." he gasped, squinting. He wrapped his arms around Chris' neck, holding on for dear life. "Y-yes.."

Piers tried to relax, but a third finger was already working its way in, stretching him before he had a chance to truly adjust. As it was, the pain skated on the edge of uncomfortable, but remained still within the mind-numbing brace of pleasure. He groaned lustily, lifting his knees high in acceptance, welcoming Chris right into him.

Chris remained quiet for the most part, skewering his fingers in and out of the other's hole as best he could. Piers was incredibly tight, tighter than anyone Chris'd ever had the opportunity to defile in this manner.

..He also wondered for a brief moment how he would ever be able to fit himself inside.

"You like that?" Chris whispered, nipping gently on the tip of Piers' left ear.

"God, yes."

Chris took this as his cue. He reached beneath, towards his own cock, brushing it against Piers' own for just a second before he set the very tip between the other's cheeks. Chris lent then, sealing Piers' sodden lips into a wet and gentle kiss. That was all Piers felt before Chris drove forwards, shoving his way into his body inch by inch with a breadth that Piers couldn't have possibly prepared himself for with any amount of foreplay.

Piers tensed up by reflex, but welcomed the breach with the way he'd wrapped his legs around Chris' waist, beckoning him further in despite the winning pain.

"Yes.." he hissed in between short, fiery kisses. "Oh, f-fuck.."

Chris was in another world far beyond.

The velvet heat that entrapped his cock with each second that passed left the coil of orgasm begin to twine much too quickly. It must have been the sinful look on Piers' face. Or the way his eyes would squint in that bashful manner. Or perhaps it was that bow-tie tied around his neck. That bow-tie was something else, Chris decided. But it was the thought of Piers' defined legs wrapped around him as firmly as they were that shot a bolt of electricity right down the entirety of Chris' spine.

Sexy wasn't his word, never was. That had to be the alcohol again, for sure.

"So tight," Chris growled, "So perfect.."

And without much warning or afterthought, Chris began thrusting, _sweeping_ with his hips in such a hellishly sensuous manner that reeked of countless past experiences. He used the first few inches of his cock at first to stimulate Piers' prostate, something Chris had learned by chance back in high school.

It was a good thing Piers lied entrapped in Chris' weight, because he nearly jumped from the bed and into the ceiling, his eyes shooting wide open in shock. Piers was powerless not to cry out.

Chris grinned and continued his ruthless assault on the small bundle of nerves without the pretense of stopping any time soon. He watched as Piers began to practically sob in pleasure, helpless and mumbling gibberish with tears already brimming at his eyes. He wormed in the craze of his own lust, desperate to pull himself into or off of Chris' cock, _anything_ to gain relief, but Chris held him in place, overpowering him greatly and then some; never stopping until Chris had Piers coming with a hoarse scream that everyone in that floor had probably heard through the walls of their suite.

Piers came hard, very hard, spewing white ribbons of cum that soiled them both at the chest.

Piers was panting by the end of it, eyes dwindled into the reef of his skull, overwhelmed and suddenly feeling very exhausted.

Chris wasn't even half finished, however.

He fucked into the younger man, deeply and in one, single, powerful sweep of the hips, grating in until his pelvis nestled comfortably against the other's globes, melding them beautifully.

Piers let out a weak whimper, limp as he was for whatever Chris had left in store. He was in another land far beyond then, seeing stars and odd little blue people, overwhelmed by the continuous pleasure that Chris' cock fucked right into him.

"F-fu.." he whispered. "Oh g_od_.."

Chris gathered him close, blanketing as much of Piers' quivering body as he could with his own bare figure, whispering sweet little nothings into his ear. When Chris felt as though Piers had relaxed a little, he began pumping his hips in long, firm strokes in a manner that left the inevitable noise of penetration soiling the otherwise complete silence of the room.

He rode Piers hard. Extremely hard.

The bed shook repeatedly, headboard hammering against the wall with each onslaught of Chris' hips. The consuming amount of heat that enveloped his cock was otherworldly, milking him gently and quickly right into the promise of a soul-numbing climax. Chris was good at both going fast and lasting long enough to tell the tale. He could, if he really wanted to, last for hours on end.

So. Chris took pride in it.

He liked to show the people he slept with the time of their lives. And with this person being Piers, the waiter of his never-knowing-dreams.. Well, that feeling only flew off the charts.

Chris' face fell to nestle into the crook of Piers' neck, taking in his scent.

Piers felt the way Chris' hot breath washed over him and closed his eyes, shaking and surrendering to Chris' delightfully vicious way of lovemaking. All he could do was hang on to the racing hips above him with his legs and continue to moan as quietly as he could to his heart's content. He felt himself beginning to get hard again, the feel of Chris' thick cock sliding in and out of him not allowing much room for a longer-needed respite.

Not that he really wanted it, anyway.

Piers couldn't imagine himself more perfectly comfortable anywhere else than underneath the weight of this man.

Underneath Chris.

It was over after ten or so minutes. Chris had stopped, catching his breath as he dug his face into Piers' neck. Piers took the opportunity to sigh in relief, ready to slip into the covers with this dream of a man in order to share the rest of the night together in an embrace. In each others arms, tangled within the sheets–

But before Piers could make a move for it, Chris had grabbed him by the hips, flipped him over, and proceeded to start all over again.

**oOo**

Unlike their first round of fucking, Chris went all out on this one.

It was brutal, it was rough.

He knelt on the bed, pushing Piers' face into the bed before taking him hard from behind.

Piers sobbed into the pillow, mumbling, keeling, and begging for more until his voice was gone altogether. His own prick was engorged to the point of pain, leaking one steady stream of cum into the sheets. Chris plundered him like no tomorrow, bruising his hips and reaching for the occasional kiss, making Piers feel as if he were being repeatedly worshiped by the man behind him.

It felt nice. It felt great. Unbelievably great.

Chris loomed over him like some pagan God of yore, eyes blue as sin, and just as alluring. Piers opened his mouth a few times in an effort at speech, but Chris would only screw him faster and harder into the mattress.

With each thrust of Chris' cock, Piers could mentally count and imagine the countless possibilities of a relationship with him. One full of passion and mind-blowing sex. One like no other. One that would make him feel like the happiest man alive.

Yes, he'd ask Chris to be his before the night was over.

Tell him every single one of his feelings in the most strenuous detail, bathe him in lovesick nothings and compliments, promise him fidelity and a long-lasting future together–

But then Chris fell forward, blanketing Piers in a cape of bare skin from behind, and it was in that moment that Piers noticed, for the first time, the golden ring scintillating brightly around Chris' finger.

And in the precise instance that Piers' heart dropped right down into the pits of his stomach at the renewed realization, Chris exploded deep inside him with enough force to have Piers bursting at the seams with cum, thick streams of it slipping and pooling to his knees.

It wasn't over.

Chris pulled out and spent long minutes gently drinking Piers' dripping hole free of fluids, shocking the younger man with the amount of selflessness Chris still seemed to portray despite all the previous violence. The feeling was lewd yet indescribably wonderful, and it left Piers' eyes retreating far back into their lids. His mouth fell open, brows slanted high in delight.

"C-Chris.. Fuck.."

When Chris was finally finished, he rolled onto the bed next to Piers, completely out of breath.

His chest heaved, and Piers could only watch in incessant amazement from the corner of his eyes, unable to stop himself from panting.

There was a long, comfortable silence between both men, and then Chris closed his eyes, taking a final, deep breath before speaking.

"You are.." he paused. "You're amazing. You know that?"

Piers grinned. _Goddamn_, did he grin.

He sat up on his elbow, despite his fatigue, and reached to plant a tiny kiss on Chris' lips. He saw Chris actually smile after the action, for the very first time.

Piers swore he felt his heart stop at the mere sight of it. Swore that there couldn't possibly be anything more breathtaking.

That's when Chris cracked one eye open and tackled Piers right back onto the bed, locking him in a long, passionate kiss that lasted well into the hour.

Then, Piers' previous hope for something more between them began to kindle right up again.

He lost himself into Chris' touches, his quiet '_baby_'s and '_you're incredible_'s, hoping with all the hope in the world that the impossible would ensue.

..How could it _not_ after a night like this?

**oOo**

Chris didn't remember much the next day.

The last few things he could recall was somehow managing to tell Piers that he couldn't stay in the room with him that night.

That he wasn't gay, that he was drunk.

That he couldn't possibly leave Jill for another man.

Piers had nodded and left the room without a word.

The door had been slammed hard enough to unhinge it.

Loud enough to never forget the look on Piers' face when he'd stood from the bed.

Chris.. felt like shit.

**oOo**

**Concluding chapter is up next. And trust me, it is very_ intense_. **

**Pretty comments make me write faster, btw. xx**


End file.
